


let's hide behind lavender

by iiccarus



Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Actress, Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, Angst, Bittersweet, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, They're In Love Your Honor, highschool sweethearts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:53:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24937852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iiccarus/pseuds/iiccarus
Summary: Heejin spent years crawling to the top, breaking bones and tearing flesh to feel the warmth of the spotlight. And she won’t let a bruised and bloody actress plunge her into the cold darkness of obscurity.OrAt night, Heejin could always see Hyunjin everywhere, everywhere.
Relationships: Jeon Heejin/Kim Hyunjin, Mention of Jung Jinsol/Kim Hyunjin, Mentions of Jung Jinsol & Kim Hyunjin
Comments: 20
Kudos: 111





	1. chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> Lavender Marriage: a marriage, undertaken as a marriage of convenience to conceal the socially stigmatized sexual orientation of one or both partners.

Hyunjin spotted the dull golden band wrapping around her ring finger, a sparkling diamond sitting atop like a lighthouse like it was a siren, a living manifestation of a plump fruit hanging on a branch that brushed against her fingers. She could be desired, but never had, never enjoyed. 

“Married.” The word burned in her mouth. Her lips trembled as she mumbled it. Her entire body rejected the idea, the institution; it was holy and it was clean, it was protected by armies of popes and priests wielding golden crosses and leather-back bibles. And yet she couldn’t help herself from wanting to rip it apart with crimson-stained teeth. 

“You are too,” Heejin shot back, she felt like she had to defend herself; the thick golden scar was choking both their ring fingers of blood, nutrients and a fulfilling love. 

“I know,” she mumbled softly, her wedding band weighing so heavy she didn’t think she would ever lift her hand again. Her eyes slowly met Heejin’s, they stared back at each other’s shared grief, a rope woven of responsibility, of a career on the line, a life of factory-made normalcy, tied tightly around their necks. 

“Happily?” Hyunjin asked, walking the thin line between ignorance and knowledge. It was easy to be deceived by golden-coated happiness, and it was difficult to remember not everything golden was good, and not everything good was golden. 

Heejin glanced back a slight look of disbelief that quickly melted away. Hyunjin expected nothing less from an award-winning actress. 

Those shining golden awards did little to deter the pack of grief and melancholy from circling her; they watched with oil dripping from their jaws. They, unlike most predators, jump straight for the kill; grief doesn’t believe in waiting. 

Heejin‘s laugh dissolved on her tongue the same way sugar did, it melted and then crumbled and left her begging for more. But her eyes hadn’t changed, her eyes were the only place she could find some fragmented, broken sense of truth; the truth that Heejin kept on a tight leash, tucked behind swirling rose-colored lips.

But when Hyunjin closed her eyes she could still see the two of them drinking their school’s watered-down chocolate milk in some forgotten math hall that no student or teacher bothered visiting. If she closed her eyes they were still those two kids with no baggage pinning them down and no constricting golden collars. 

(If she closed her eyes tight enough, tight enough so the tattered present couldn’t seep through her eyelids, they were still floating in a golden love, a love that didn’t rust or chip).

But when gold breaks, it shatters. 

Heejin glanced back at her with her hollow eyes, like something darker was lurking amongst her long and curled eyelashes. Her fingers rolled across the table and tapped quietly. 

(This was Hyunjin, and how could she hurt her with something they both already knew?). 

“No,” Heejin answered finally, still smiling with hollow eyes. “But what marriage has ever been happy?” 

_Plenty_ , Hyunjin wanted to say. She wanted to say so many people were just drowning in yellow, eye-straining, lung-combusting happiness. She wanted to say there were more sparkling gold bands than there were stars in the sky, and the sky was infinite. 

_“We would_ ,” she wanted to say, letting the words pool and letting her tongue wade in the sweetness of her words. “ _We would be happy, and the moon and the stars would explode out of envy_ .” _If we could_ , she wanted to say. _If we could, love would never be the same._

She swallowed her confession, beating it back so she wouldn’t foam at the mouth with desperate longing and desires that she knew would only set Heejin aflame. 

“Are _you_ happy?” Heejin asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence. 

Heejin turned away, avoiding the painfully conscious look in her reflection’s eyes. Her reflection was a splinter of her living in a world with only an inch of depth, and even she knew the answer, but Heejin still wanted her to admit it. 

She wanted Hyunjin to dig her teeth into her grief’s scruff, she wanted to see the bitterness linger on her tongue as it had with her. 

“No,” Hyunjin answered with a weary sigh. 

Heejin nodded, the ever-growing curiosity had crumbled in her chest. “Like I said, nobody really is.” 

“That’s not true.” 

Hyunjin’s eyes were pleading at this point, begging Heejin to pull away from the rigidness of all the rules they had to endure, to just indulge herself for once.

Her voice dropped to a whisper, “It’s not our marriage Heejin- it’s us and you know that.” 

Heejin’s eyes widened as if the growing flame in her eyes was prying her eyelids apart. Ignoring her accusation entirely. “Then tell me one person who is.” 

“Haseul and Vivi,” Hyunjin whispered, her eyes flicking to the door then to Heejin, she sat in silence for a few seconds, hearing for the footsteps of any interns coming to drag them away to another two-hour shoot. 

Heejin’s entire body pulled away from her as if happy marriages were bloodstains or flecks of dirt and mud on a pure white shirt. “Don’t,” she hissed. 

It was a double-sided warning; one side duller for Hyunjin, a harsh reminder that a love like theirs would only end up with them dead, and if not dead they’ll wish they were. 

The sharper side was herself, a deep wound to remind her to never follow Hyunjin again; a reminder to not let herself get lost in the honey that pooled in her eyes, or in her laugh that took the space of the air in her lungs, her selfish, parasite laugh that kept her alive longer than air ever could. 

(This time she’s too old to survive something like that. This time she’ll just drown). 

“What?” Hyunjin snapped, her eyes narrowed, “they don’t count?” 

“You know they don’t,” Heejin hissed as she got up from her seat. “I’m happy with my career- you know that.” 

“Happy with your career but unhappy with your marriage,” Hyunjin scoffed with a cruel laugh that tore her throat as it flew through her teeth. 

Heejin glanced back, her entire face screaming sharp and dangerous. Her jaw rigid while her chest flared and her hands shook. Hyunjin gulped quietly as volcanoes erupted, cities crumbled, and hundreds of years of fleshy fury split within her eyes. 

Her biting tone quickly deflated and wrapped around the spiky fear gnawing at her chest. She skittered back for only a second before her hand flew out and clutched onto Heejin’s; begging without saying: _stay, don’t leave._

Heejin shuddered underneath her grip; waves of warmth rose and swept off of Hyunjin and crashed into her. Every nerve jump-started before they quickly drowned in the endless heat.

Over the years her hands had become paler and colder to the touch; her body must’ve known nobody was going to touch her hand the way they had years ago, and no one would hold them and beg her not to go, or softly squeeze them and tell her the world wasn’t crumbling like she thought it was. 

A knock came at the door and the two tore apart from each other. Like they were caught mid-sin; they scrambled like Hyunjin was holding a bloody knife and Heejin was bleeding out on the floor, her eyes glossy and her skin cold. 

Hyunjin’s hand tore away from her and into her pocket as Heejin ran a few steps forwards; placing a comfortable distance that two co-workers with no past of late nights together hiding underneath a thin sheet whispering secrets that could only fit within their mouths. 

A distance only a future of cold formalities, and empty smiles that reflected plastic-coated interactions could have. 

“Come in,” Heejin called out as she pretended to organize things on the makeup table. 

The door opened and an intern, the two had met a few weeks back, peeked her head through the door, “Time to shoot.” 

“We’ll be right there.” Hyunjin swallowed her grimace, while it slid down her throat a friendly grin rose and it looked as if a paper cut-out was pasted onto her face. 

(Heejin nearly frowned, _an actress who can’t even pretend to smile. Jesus_ ). 

“Fantastic,” she responded and left. 

Heejin turned back, her entire face aflame with resentment. “Don’t ruin this for me. I didn’t come all this way to be destroyed by a high school fling.” 

* * *

Hyunjin kept her confessions tied and thrown into the back with the rest of her memories and old apologies that were never sent but were often visited. Months had gone by and the confessions were beginning to cloud her body. 

She watched Heejin from a distance, her eyes drifting from their co-stars to Heejin during their breaks. 

(Heejin’s eyes would always find a way to her, and for a second her entire face would melt into a softened mess, her character’s constant frown would be kneaded into a gentle smile. This would last until the camera panned back to her). 

* * *

“This tastes amazing Heejin,” a co-star said as he sipped his coffee. “How do you make it so well?” 

(Hyunjin didn’t care for coffee, but Heejin’s coffee had a way of easing the hammering thumps in her chest). 

Heejin laughed and lightly tossed her hair to her shoulders, Hyunjin watched her eyes sparkle in the light of her co-stars’ compliments, her skin seemed to shine brighter and a rosy blush swept across her cheeks. 

Hyunjin smiled softly, _At least some things don’t change._

“I always make it for my _husband_ ,” Heejin explained lightly, “he likes a little cinnamon in his.” 

The coffee turned stagnant in Hyunjin’s mouth; her smile dropped and she could feel the liquid turn to grey-tasteless stone, anchoring her jaws together.

The cinnamon burned against her cheeks and she felt like her entire body was rejecting it, like if it stayed in her body for a second longer her chest would tighten and her ribs would curl inwards and impale her heart. 

Suddenly Hyunjin couldn’t stand coffee anymore. 

* * *

Hyunjin stared back at the ink bleeding into the paper, the beautiful roses casting a dark shadow across her lung-tearing confession. Hyunjin breathed softly, her heart thumping in the back of her throat. 

_You are Schrödinger’s girl: both dead and alive._

Her eyes scanned further down the page. 

_I know you think we’re dirty sinners in the hands of a pure-merciless world. I know you think we’re faults in evolution, maybe you think we’re a pair of broken receptors in our brain._

_But I think we’re clean, I think the stars carved out the sky just for us to lie together._

She folded the card and gently tucked it between two roses. She had torn out so much of herself and stuffed it into that card she thought it would be leaking blood, and if not bleeding then gagging on months of twisted-up confessions

* * *

Hyunjin wiped the sweat off her forehead as she raised a cup of water to her lips. She heard the familiar sound of cameras swiveling, the hushed arguments between the producer and the director. She turned away from the snack-table and watched the interns and crew members fly past her. 

“Who sent that?!” somebody asked from the right. 

Hyunjin’s ears perked as she turned to see Heejin drowning in red roses, a few petals fell and circled her before being crushed by a few curious co-stars. She gripped onto her cup; if she hadn’t sent her heart inside that card she was sure it would be dangling from her ribs. 

Heejin beamed at the flowers, her smile forming into the sun to those flowers, their nourisher, the reason they could stretch their petals and bask in their golden glory. Hyunjin could see herself in every single red petal in every green petal and fanged thorn.

She pulled the white card from the crimson bundle, Heejin felt her smile splinter, slivers of it falling with the petals, and quickly yanked it upwards. Her eyes scanned the card; she let out a shuddered breath as she shoved it into her pocket. 

Heejin glanced at the small crowd surrounding her, their eyes all staring back at her. She wondered if they could see the dread creeping into her veins, or the sudden cold paleness spreading across her body. She pressed her shaking hand flat against her thigh. 

“Well, who was it?” 

“My husband,” Heejin replied with an uneasy laugh, “who else would?” 

Heejin pushed the roses farther away from her, the crowd had left and the incessant whispering had faded away. She would be drowning in a thick silence if it wasn’t for the sharp buzzing ringing in her ears as she looked away from the flowers and to the only person still standing in the rubble. 

Heejin had seen Hyunjin bloody and battered, with violet bruises blooming all over her body as sticky dark blood poured out of sharp left-hooks. There were nights where she watched strained croaks and final wishes slip from pale lips and had Heejin wondering if it was the end, like the end hadn’t happened before and then again. 

Those tear-stained bloody nights meant nothing now; rings of red circled around Hyunjin’s eyes as she shakily looked back at her. 

There was a painful absence of purple, but there didn’t need to be any. Saturated shades of bluish misery were painted across her face; there wasn’t any blood but Heejin felt like there should’ve been blood dripping from the knife in her hand, and blood pouring out of the gaping wound in Hyunjin’s chest. 

(Purple could be fixed, ice and bandages and a few days later Hyunjin would forget how her entire eye looked like it was colored in with a purple crayon. Blue meant broken, it meant shattered. Blue meant already gone). 

* * *

“You’re quiet today,” he said softly, the sounds of metal sliding across a plate and nearly silent chewing wafting in their apartment. 

Heejin glanced out to the balcony, the blueness of the sky washed over the greyness of the endless buildings, her eyes wandered downwards and sharp hues of red flowed vibrantly beneath the two; the roses seemed to wave to her as they blew in the wind. 

“Heejin?” 

She looked to her husband, “Hm?” 

“You’re quiet,” he repeated, not any harsher. His eyes pooling with concern, sometimes Heejin found his goodness repulsive, always caring, never taking. 

(If he ever did take, Heejin could only imagine the damage it would leave). 

“Just looking at the flowers.” She forced a grin, watching his concern dissolve into a soft smile. 

“Where’d you get them from?” he asked while swirling his cup. 

“I bought them from a florist after shooting,” she answered, forcing her eyes to scrunch slightly. She knew he loved it when her eyes squished together. 

(Hyunjin did too). 

He nodded, “They’re pretty.” 

(Hyunjin must’ve thought so too). 

“I didn’t know you liked roses,” he said after a few minutes of silence, “I never really thought you were the type.” 

Heejin felt the truth becoming warped at the base of her throat. 

She cleared her throat, she needed this lie to be delivered clean, without the taste of Hyunjin on her lips, and without guilt and fear. Even though roses were rising from her lungs and wrapping around her tongue; their thorns sinking deep into her mouth. Her mouth had to be clean. 

“I’m not, they were the only ones left,” Heejin lied with a smile, her mouth full of blood-covered petals and the bitter aftertaste of not having Hyunjin’s name always lingering on her tongue. 

* * *

“So she doesn’t like you?” Jinsol asked, a slender cigarette in-between her fingers, a flickering shade of red amongst colorless ashes. “At all?” 

“Well, she told everyone the roses were from her husband,” Hyunjin explained with a huff of pearl-colored smoke. “She couldn’t even lie and say I gave them to her as a gift.”

“Then move on, why do you care so much about her anyways it’s not like she’s the only girl in the world,” Jinsol laughed. “I’ve seen girls that look like her at parties. If you ever came to those you’d know girls like her exist everywhere.” 

Hyunjin shook her head, “It’s like my mouth was made to say her name, every letter fits perfectly into my mouth, they fit into the tiny spaces in my teeth. And I don’t crush them… I don’t break her.” 

  
She stopped, her eyes filling with bluish gloom as smoke flooded out of the crack between her lips. “For once, I don’t break something. For once I can say something without it breaking.” 

“Besides.” Smoke poured out of her mouth and twirled around her head, “I got all this love for her, and if I can’t give it to her, where the hell do I put it now? It’s not like an award, I can’t send it to my mom for her to show off when her friends come over.” 

“I’ll take it.” Jinsol glanced back at her for a split second, a small twist at the end of her smile, her voice cracking quietly, quiet enough for Hyunjin not to hear. “I’ll take all of it, even the scraps nobody wants.”

* * *

Heejin saw her everywhere. 

Hyunjin was a parasite living in her brain, feeding off the endless thoughts about her earth-shattering laugh and how she used to steal her old baseball jersey. How Hyunjin would proudly walk around with “JEON 19” written across her back like the name already belonged to her. 

Her mind was clouded with Hyunjin’s flowery scent of blossoms with a hint of smoke trailing right behind her, and the sharp scent of lotion that cut through the sweet lul of flowers: the lotion she used to ease the scars on her shoulders that used to bleed through her shirts.

_“You have a husband,”_ she thought. 

“ _He’s not pretty,”_ the same voice interjected, a quiet whine behind her shaking tone. 

“ _Then find a pretty boy.”_

_“I don’t want a boy-“_

_“You can’t have anyone else.”_ Her voice solid and unshaking, but dripping with endless grief. Grief of a life drained of any color; grief of a life lived full of hesitant hugs, and nausea-inducing kisses in-front of cameras and crowds. 

Heejin’s pencil snapped in her hand. A low groan slipping from her lips as she buried her face into her hands. 

(There was no one else but pretty boys. Pretty boys with soft voices and small hands that drew circles on her back. Nobody else could be an option).

Especially not _her_. 

She pulled her face from her hands; brown charcoal streaking across her left eyebrow as a dash of bright crimson sliced through her nose, and gentle shades of creme exploded liking dying stars across her cheeks. She looked back at the drawing; eyes that webbed together stars and modern-day tragedies. Eyes that she eventually learned that sinking in didn’t mean complete death, just the absence of the body her soul would rest within her eyes.

Eyes like those wouldn’t hurt her. Eyes like hers haunted Heejin; Hyunjin had pretty girl eyes with broken girl bruises. 

* * *

Heejin’s favorites were scratched onto the back of a receipt for a meal Hyunjin couldn’t remember. Tucked behind some foggy memories and old recipes she learned from her mother; placed under some childhood memories of a small white dog and a white dress sticky from disgust. 

(The dress was a memory that stretched halfway out of a grave she doesn’t remember digging). 

And amongst all those memories and those tiny wisps of a future, she couldn’t predict; she never saw a future where Heejin would walk out of the smoke rising from the tiny kitchens that lined the walls of this district.

She saw futures where Heejin burned her red roses and left their ashes at the foot of her bed. 

She saw plenty of gold-trimmed tragedies, but she never saw pearly dreams of Heejin pulling on her hands like she used to do. And yet, that was the one that came true. 

“Hey.” Hyunjin felt a gentle tug on her left hand. “Are you gonna eat that?” 

“Huh?” Hyunjin replied, her mouth still wide from the shock of seeing Heejin sit across from her, willingly. 

Heejin’s deep voice hadn’t changed, “Your soup. Are you gonna finish it? If you aren’t, can I have it?” 

Hyunjin frowned as she pulled her bowl closer to her, she didn’t need ten years of experience with Heejin to know nobody was better than her at stealing food. One second she’d be talking to someone and then when she looked back, Heejin would have her plate in her lap, half of the rice tucked in her mouth and all the meat shoved between her teeth. 

“I want it,” she said with a slight pout. 

Heejin groaned as she dramatically collapsed onto the table. “It’s so good though.” 

Hyunjin felt her younger self tug her eyes back. “I’ll order you another bowl.” 

* * *

Hyunjin smiled to herself watching the yellow lights dance and tumble downwards and melt across Heejin’s forehead and shiny smile. She raised her nearly empty bowl of soup to her lips. 

“Ugh,” Hyunjin grimaced as a loud slurp erupted between the bowl and Heejin’s plush lips. “Old habits die hard I guess.” 

“Like you’re one to talk about old habits,” Heejin said as she wiped drops of broth off her chin, “you’re the one still covering up that old scar with a bandaid.” She leaned across the table, her finger drifted across the bandaid, her palm hovering above Hyunjin’s glistening throat. 

Hyunjin felt the blood in her body rush into her neck, pooling underneath Heejin’s finger, like they’ve been waiting years just to feel her touch again. All the mangled nerves flared underneath that old scar tissue, blazing heat erupted from Hyunjin’s throat and licked at Heejin’s fingertip. 

“My publicist makes me cover it up now,” Hyunjin explained, gasping softly as Heejin’s hand slid off her throat. “I don’t mind it anymore.” 

“Probably for the best,” Heejin said with a chuckle, “you probably don’t want to explain the story behind that one.” 

“It’s not like I got it killing someone.” 

“No, you got it _almost_ killing someone,” Heejin frowned. 

Hyunjin laughed, “He was being an asshole. Weren’t you the one who wanted him to be found at the bottom of a river?” 

“I didn’t want you to be the one to put him there,” Heejin said with a light sigh. 

“I wouldn’t mind- I didn’t mind,” Hyunjin grinned while peeling the bandaid off her neck. 

* * *

Hyunjin placed her hands onto Heejin’s. She wanted to say, _t_ _hese are yours, you don’t have to keep them or even look at them. Just know they’re yours._ She pressed her lips against Heejin’s, _these are yours, they’re for you, but you don’t have to take them. You can love me whole, or you can love me in pieces._

Heejin didn’t kiss her again. 

* * *

Heejin closed her eyes, her head resting in the soft curve of Hyunjin’s shoulder. She listened to the song beating within her chest, the quiet thumps and whooshes slowly convincing her heart to dance to the same beat. 

The small fruit rolled in her left hand, the sweet smell of mandarins wafting towards her nose. She looked down at the fruit, splotches of orange were painted across her hand, her fingers smelling of sharp citrus. 

She began to peel, bright orange falling back to reveal a softer shade. She pulled at a slice and raised it to Hyunjin’s lips. 

“I love oranges,” she mumbled as she ate the slice, a smile stretching her soft lips as an amber colored drop trickled to a little below her bottom lip. 

“I know,” Heejin replied, her thumb gently brushing against her bottom lip, the drop of citrus pressing into the pad of her finger, the warmth of Hyunjin’s skin radiating till the air around them became heavy and sank towards the floor. 

(She fed her till she had nothing left but an orange coil and a few seeds sitting in the palm of her hand). 

She wondered if Hyunjin ever grew tired of citrus fruits and their sourness. Was it possible to grow tired of things so well loved? 

* * *

Hyunjin flopped onto her back, the grass tickling her face. The starry night spilled across the sky, darkness floating in between pieces of dying star-dust. “Do you remember that day you fell into that river?” 

“Yeah.” Hyunjin couldn’t see her face in the bluish darkness but she knew Heejin was pouting, her lips could be pressing against each other so hard they could fuse. “There was a fish in my pocket, I didn’t know till I got home but the little guy was there.” 

“Wow, you murdered a fish?” Hyunjin laughed with a dramatic gasp, a hand gripping her non-existent pearls. “Don’t let the reporters hear that you might lose your only two fans.” 

Heejin punched Hyunjin’s shoulder before sprawling across the grass, her head resting on Hyunjin’s arm. “Asshole. I’ll have you know-“ 

“That your fan club increased by five-hundred people this month? Or that your articles get thousands of clicks every day?” Hyunjin smirked, “trust me I know. I paid the 20,000 won to be in your fan club, you should post more pictures by the way.” 

“You’re in it?” Heejin turned to face her, her eyebrows raising in the darkness. 

“Yeah, but totally not worth the 20,000 to _only_ see pictures of your dog and plants,” Hyunjin sighed as she glanced at her phone. 

“Shut up,” Heejin rolled her eyes as she raised her phone to snap a picture of the sky, tapping away at her phone, and a second later Hyunjin’s phone began to buzz. 

Hyunjin took a picture of the same sky, it caught the dark trees and it was a few feet away from Heejin so she wouldn’t show the same stars. 

Same sky, same night, but different stars. 

Upon posting it Heejin sheepishly muted her phone after it started to shake in her pocket. 

“Post notifications huh.” Hyunjin laughed quietly. 

* * *

Heejin ignored the loud alarms blaring from her phone, her hands shaking as she took her husband’s phone. 

She could hear her publicist nearly screaming into her ear, her company’s CEO sending her rapid-fire texts; some were threats, some were accusations, but the majority were clouded with confusion. 

“It’s okay. Everything’s gonna be okay darling,” he murmured as he gently pulled her into a hug. 

Heejin froze in his grasps, her hand tightening around his phone. If her career wasn’t already crumbling then it was nearly on the verge. 

**[EXCLUSIVE]: Actresses Kim Hyunjin and Jeon Heejin rumored to be dating.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed and let me know what you think, comments and kudos are always appreciated! :)
> 
> The next chapter will be out next Friday! :)


	2. chapter two

A quiet crackle drenched the empty living room, it snapped and grew and smothered the entire apartment as Heejin walked further towards the window. 

A soft trickle of liquid ran down the floor; Heejin pressed her fingers across the empty window-still, glass shards stabbing into her hand; her foot resting atop the red brick as a fresh stream of blood poured over it. 

She felt a heavy hand softly squeeze her shoulder, “I’ll help you get cleaned up.” 

* * *

Hyunjin stared back at the smashed window, seeing her face scattered within the tiny pieces of glass; her darkened right eye living within the piece that made its way on top of her dresser, her shaking lips frowning in the piece that impaled her pillow. 

Despite the broken glass and a possibly ruined career, her mind was stuck to Heejin.

She could survive this, after all, she was shattered glass and bloody knuckles dressed up in frilly dresses and makeup that covered the scars running up and down her hands. 

She was calamity wrapped in a neat box, she was a spark in a gasoline canister; if not a tragedy then carnage waiting to happen. 

(But Heejin was not). 

Heejin was anything but black eyes and tarnished futures and dirty pasts. She was pure; heaven reflected off her skin and liquid gold pooled behind her eyes.

Heejin was a perfect future encased in pearl wrapping and a velvet bow, and oh how shattered glass tore perfect futures and pretty bows to shreds. 

Hyunjin heard a heavy laugh from the doorway but she didn’t face him, not wanting to see his knowing eyes. Instead, her eyes drifted to the red brick crushing a bouquet of red roses.

“I guess they didn’t like your new show,” he laughed. 

“I guess they didn’t,” she replied, her knuckles turning white as the bed-sheet coiled tightly around her fist. 

* * *

Heejin’s and Hyunjin’s legs swung over the edge of white marble, their feet hovering over a soaked stone floor. 

(Neither cared though). 

Hyunjin’s legs fluttered in the water, the dye from her jeans slowly seeping through the water; leaving an indigo tint in the water. 

Her fingers slowly rubbed circles onto Heejin’s hand; neither staring at each other, but neither stared at anything in particular either. 

An apology bubbled in Hyunjin’s chest, it boiled red roses and white notes till they were floating in sticky guilt. 

She breathed shakily as the circles formed quicker and quicker on Heejin’s hand till they weren’t circles anymore, but a track of fear her hand quickly ran on. 

_I ruined everything, why do you still want me here? Kick me out, tell every reporter that I seduced you and it wasn’t your fault. Tell them- tell me that you love your husband and you would never cheat._ Hyunjin wanted to say, waves of confession crashing into her teeth.

( _Tell me you never cared; tell me it was all just a joke)._

“He’s not gonna be home right?” she asked instead, her lips tight and her teeth gritted. There was more than enough guilt, she thought. They were practically drowning in it. 

There wasn’t enough room in the world for their guilt, their regret. If they ever let it slip from the slits in their ribs, buildings would be torn from the skies and thrown into the depths of the Earth. 

If a sliver of their pain ever escaped them the world would never be the same. 

“No, he’s out on a business trip.” 

“What about yours?” Heejin asked. They had names, names they recited at altars, and during family gatherings, and interviews. Names that were spoken but never really remembered. 

(They had names, but not in their story). 

Hyunjin sighed, her finger splashing the water. “I told him I’m going out to eat.”

“And he believes you?” 

“He doesn’t care,” Hyunjin mumbled, her fingers touching her lips like there was a cigarette there. Heejin wanted to say there was nothing between her lips, nothing balancing between her fingers. 

She decided to ignore it. 

Heejin turned to face her; any trace of makeup had been washed away. Her skin still smooth, and as perfect as any statue of any God.

If Hyunjin stared at her plush lips, or clear skin she might’ve thought she was a heaven-descent, an angel caught in the limelight. 

But her eyes weren’t milky grey, she could stare into the violet slashes of color underneath her eyes and the vibrant shades of red that oozed into the pale whites of her eyes.

_Gods didn’t look like this. Gods aren’t supposed to decay,_ she thought. _Gods are supposed to be clean._

(She wasn’t blind. But she wished she was, she’d do anything to not see Heejin like she was some ancient ruin). 

* * *

They both dunked at the same time, a massive splash exploded from the surface of the water as they sunk downwards. 

Heejin swiftly pressed her head against the white marble of her tub, the coolness coiling around her steaming neck. Her lips softly opened and bubbles instantly flooded out and upwards. 

Hyunjin uncomfortably settled at the bottom, her chest creaking underneath the newfound pressure. She hesitated, her pale legs anxiously bouncing above water before she pried her lips open and any scraps of comfort flew away from her. 

The weight of the world, the weight of the water, the weight of her guilt dove into her chest. Her lungs tightened and her body thrashed slightly.

And all at once, everything felt like it was bordering on the collapse; columns crumbling as the ground beneath her began to sink into the upper levels of hell. 

She pulled herself out of the water, her hair plastered to her forehead as she gasped for air. Her hands wrapped around the sides of the tub, her knuckles turning white as she slid against the wall. 

It was only a few seconds longer till Heejin rose to the surface, her breathing smooth and silky as she plucked stray hairs off her face. 

“You feel clean now?” Heejin asked with the same polite smile she gives assistants, and directors that always lean in a little too close as their hands barely hover over her waist. 

(Hyunjin longed her broken smile, her tattered, unhinged jaws, pointed canines basking in silver moonlight. She deserved more than a tight-lipped, politeness served on a silver platter, grin). 

“No,” Hyunjin muttered, her left hand wrapping loosely around her aching throat. 

A heavy sigh echoed from beside her, “It always works for me.” 

“What does it even do?” Hyunjin asked. 

Heejin’s fingers began to dance around each other, “I don’t know, I always thought if I drowned it, maybe it would go away.” 

Heejin stared back at her hands, trying her best to ignore the silence melting into the bath-water. “Do you ever… Hide it? Even from yourself like it’s a sin like you just murdered somebody.” 

“Sometimes.” 

Heejin tapped on her throat, “You put it here and pray that it won’t ever spill out. You pray that it goes away, right?” 

Hyunjin’s finger dropped onto her sternum, her hand rubbing against the ribs that coiled upwards and fused at the center. “I put it here.” 

Hyunjin rubbed her eyes; her heart aching as it hid behind an ever-growing list of why she loved Heejin: a list that was folded a thousand times and tucked behind the sharp point of her sternum. 

That was something she could hide, but she could never bring herself to pray for it to go away. 

“You know, I’d eat the world raw for you,” she confessed, her voice so hushed it was almost overpowered by the gentle drip of the faucet.

Heejin didn’t say anything. 

* * *

A few Suns had been placed on a flowery white place; cracked open while skinny creme lines branched over waves of gentle orange. Hyunjin yawned quietly as she plucked a slice of the Sun. 

Hyunjin thought Heejin peeled the Sun and left it for her to enjoy. Hyunjin thought Heejin caught the fiery Sun within her shaking pale hands just because she loved to bathe in its warm glory. 

Hyunjin thought Heejin tossed the entire world into forever darkness just so she could enjoy the Sun melting in her mouth. 

(Hyunjin wasn’t that far off). 

The sweet smell of citrus danced around her nostrils as she flopped onto her back; the taste of mandarins dissolving on her tongue. 

A few of Heejin’s awards shimmered in the golden sunlight. 

She turned away and stared out the window; Hyunjin didn’t need to read the plaques to know what she won. She saw Heejin at every award show, she watched her captivate crowds of people whose entire jobs were trapping people with their beauty, she watched Heejin make nations fall in love with her. 

Hyunjin smiled softly as she ate another mandarin. Yes, they loved her and Heejin loved them. But they would never get plates of heavenly stars split down the middle.

That love was made for her. She was the only one who could ever carry it without her spine splitting into two. 

* * *

He snored. 

He snored every night and it filled the air like a grey smog. Heejin flipped to her side, not caring how loud their bed would cry out. His snoring continued as she buried her head underneath her pillow. 

She could find him in everything she did: the small clips of hair that she would find littered across the sink when she woke up in the morning, the prickly stubble she would feel creeping up on the side of her face, the crumbs of bread, from sandwiches he would eat, that would press into her bare feet as she walked across the kitchen. 

By technicality what he did wasn’t a crime, but that didn’t make Heejin want to throw him into jail any less. 

She held back a gag while pulling her phone up to her face, the blue light shooting out and illuminating the fine lines of disgust crossing her forehead. She was told to avoid the internet because some fans had found information the day after the rumors had surfaced. 

Her teeth gritted as she clicked onto an article named, _What to Know about the Jeon-Kim Scandal_. She scrolled through the article and it started with a scan of her high school yearbook; her younger school photos paired off with Hyunjin’s. 

(She considered it her fault for telling reporters she and Hyunjin went to the same school). 

**_Crew members from their latest drama report that Jeon Heejin was sent roses._ **

**_An unidentified crew member recounts that scenes with Jeon and Kim were difficult to shoot due to the two’s history._ **

A scream nearly erupted from the depths of her chest. Heejin quickly yanked it back and tossed it back to the depths of her throat. Her nails dug into the sheets until she heard the sharp tear of cotton.

How could she have known that something as beautiful and gentle as flowers could’ve ended her career? 

* * *

Hyunjin flopped onto her back, the cool spring air pooling above her chest. She stretched her arms across the mattress, smiling when she didn’t feel his warm body colliding into her hands. 

She stared up at her ceiling; smooth eggshell white peeking through the clouds of night. Her hand wrapped loosely around her throat as the eggshells began to twirl in her vision. 

“I want to love and love and love and then die,” she confessed to the ceiling, to the walls, to the ground, and to the old rug, she bought with Heejin when they were 16 and still planning a life never apart. 

They nodded and agreed. 

* * *

For the first time in months, Heejin was able to fall asleep without Hyunjin plaguing her mind. Every dream starred Hyunjin, if the movie industry operated within her head Korea would never escape her. 

_“Your career is salvageable,” he said while leaning back; his new Prada suit glimmering in the sparse light in his office._

_“It is?”_

_He laughed, “Do you think you’re the first to have a scandal like this? Every company has a few actors who mingle a little too close to the same gender. Besides, it’s not true anyway, right?”_

_“No, I’m married to a man,” she recited. Heejin practically had the phrase engraved into the back of her lips; it no longer had that spark of fear every lie had, it didn’t even leave the bitter taste of men on her tongue anymore._

_“Good, just say that to anybody who asks.” His eyes darkened for a second. “This rumor can’t destroy a career the first time around, your fans will forget and eventually so will the press. But let this happen again though, and you’ll be lucky if you even starred in commercials.”_

_She began to walk out of his office, “There isn’t a rumor in the world dirtier than this one Heejin. Nobody will ever want you if you’re dirty.”_

* * *

Hyunjin leaned against the wall a thin cigarette hanging from her lips. Her dark hood pulled far over her head, the only thing peeking out of the shadows were two piercing eyes. 

Her husband stood in front of a brightly-lit food cart. It had a poster draped across the front, in large bold letters it shouted: PASTRIES. 

Hyunjin looked to the rails overlooking the vast ocean beneath them; there stood a photographer, his camera hooked to his eye as he panned it from the cart to her and then to her husband. 

It was PR at its most basic level. 

It was a photograph of Hyunjin and her husband, and yet Heejin managed to sneak her way in. Like everything else in Hyunjin’s life, Heejin was littered everywhere. 

Hyunjin raised her phone to her ear; the quiet crinkle of static filling the night-air. The quiet flash of the camera erupted into the air. 

“Hello?” she answered, “who is this?” 

“It should be you.” 

“I’m sorry I think you have the wrong number.” 

“It should’ve been you. You should be here,” she said, smoke spilling out of her mouth. 

Heejin stared into the tv as words straggled across her mouth. She was already gone; all Heejin heard was crinkly static. Hyunjin was gone, and yet Heejin always found herself chasing after her.

“No problem, you have a good night too,” she said to nobody in particular. She felt her husband’s arm pull in her tighter, he planted a soft kiss against her scalp. 

(It should’ve felt clean. It should’ve felt good). 

Hyunjin shoved her phone into her pocket, another flash of light and a loud click. She looked up as her husband handed her a bag of fish-shaped cookies. 

(She didn’t care for them; Heejin did though). 

“Enjoy,” he sneered. 

Hyunjin tore a fish into two and tossed it into her mouth. “Asshole.” 

“Don’t get mad at me,” he mumbled while leaning in and pressing a kiss against her cheek, “for something I didn’t do.” 

Another flash and click. 

He smiled. “Maybe if you and your girlfriend were smarter you would’ve hidden it better. Maybe your fans wouldn’t have thrown a brick through your window if you weren’t showing her off.” 

Hyunjin laughed softly as she interlocked hands with him. Somewhere in the distance she heard another flash and click. “You wish I showed your shitty band half the attention.” 

“Maybe you’d finally be able to chart if I actually cared for your music,” she said while pulling him into a hug, a large smile pulling on her lips as she felt his heart race underneath her head. 

* * *

Hyunjin glanced back at the diamond sitting atop Heejin’s finger; her heartbroken yes, but not completely. Not entirely this time. 

“We’re married,” Heejin said with a soft sigh while turning the ring on her finger. “Married.” 

“Heejin-” 

Her eyes slowly met Heejin’s. Heejin thought a world of sorrow revolved in those eyes. She watched tragedies unfold in shades of brown till they dissolved into the dreary blackness of the universe.

A thousand tragedies played out in front of her, and she saw Hyunjin in each one. 

Her mouth opened only for the words to be stolen.

“I know,” Hyunjin said simply, “You’re sorry. I know.” 

Heejin wondered how many times she had seen this scene before. How many times had she acted in roles like these before? She played Hyunjin before, the endless grief spilling from a spine split open.

She’s played herself, the one with concrete walls built 5 inches thick around her. She played the world that tore the two apart.

Everything was the same; except this time her chest really felt hollow. There wasn’t a script to follow, no directors to please. This time she would not come out unscathed with a golden award to sit on her mantle. 

(This time she will leave battered and bloody with Hyunjin written into every wound on her body). 

This time she's acting on her own command. 

Hyunjin was the less experienced actress, her voice cracked and sometimes she spoke a few seconds off-cue, sometimes the camera would catch her watching Heejin with a thin film of worn-out puppy love stretched across her face; a shining golden obsession pinned to her ears. 

(The type of love the directors wanted between Heejin and her co-star). 

So they peeled it off. Snipping the wires connecting stained pasts to stirring futures. They rewired her; pulled at her skin till her wide, ever-consuming eyes twisted into glares.

To be her character, to be a character who could only see Heejin as an enemy; there couldn't be any sign of her left, so they had to snip at wherever Hyunjin grew.

She was only the face they had told her one day, not the brain, not even the voice.

_“Whatever voice in your head is telling you to look at her like that, shut it up.” an assistant director told her after an ill-shooted fight scene._

Sometimes Hyunjin stumbled on her lines, her tongue tripping on “hate yous” and “fuck yous.” She would spend nights practicing in the mirror, her eyes narrowed and cold as she stared back at herself; her lips would ease into a sneer, and “hate yous” and “fuck yous” were never spoken easier. 

Hyunjin was the less experienced actress, and yet grief only simmered in the darkness of her eyes. Her lips were parted like there were words hanging off her tongue, words both knew but neither could handle hearing. 

Hyunjin stood waiting, her body slowly sinking into a ragged silence. 

“I make you feel dirty,” she whispered. “I’m dirty and I’m making you dirty too.” 

"No," Heejin lied. She was dirty, but not because Hyunjin made her but because she was born with filth in her blood. She wasn't clean and nor was Hyunjin, but neither could be blamed.

“Maybe we’re dirty in this world,” Heejin began. “Maybe we’re clean in another. Maybe we don't even meet in another. Maybe in another, they’ll read about us when they think of love.”

* * *

Heejin sighed softly, her fingers pressing against the black ink dancing across the page; dark smudges wrapping around her fingers and tugging on her trembling tendons. 

_And when the world forgets your name, I will always remember it. I’ll recite your name like a prayer guarding me against hellfire. I may not be an angel, but with your name written on my tongue and my lips shaped just to whisper your name, I may just be heaven-bound._

She tucked the letter into a bouquet of red roses. 

* * *

And that’s how history remembered them; separate but never that far apart. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I started this story I had no clear ending in mind; I wanted something to show that while Heejin and Hyunjin both grew so much that they understood each other's struggles. Hyunjin started off not understanding why Heejin stuck to her marriage so and Heejin never understood why Hyunjin stayed so attached to her. Hyunjin understood that Heejin possibly could've loved her career more than her, and Heejin would understand that love is what was most important to Hyunjin. Two conflicting ideas. 
> 
> I wanted to show how the two perceived each other. Hyunjin saw Heejin as this perfect godly actress, despite being given proof that Heejin was anything but that. Heejin never stopped seeing Hyunjin as the scrappy kid she used to date because in a way she was still that scrappy kid, where Heejin excelled in control, Hyunjin failed massively and it caused massive rifts between the two. 
> 
> Heejin's obsessive need to be clean was my favorite part to write. The tub scene being the most difficult to write as it centered on Heejin's unhealthy coping mechanisms. It was also the massive reveal for Hyunjin, who struggled to see her anything more than a perfect beauty. Because in that scene Heejin is anything but perfect.
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are always appreciated. <3


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